She remembers going to a Christmas market when she was little, though it can’t have been this one, as it’s only been running for the last few years. But she can recall eating warm roasted chestnuts, can remember her dad sweeping her into his arms, even though she was far too big for that really. Her dad. So it must have been before Chloe died. Chloe must have been there, but she can’t recall her sister’s voice, or the sound of her laugh. Can’t remember what they did at that market – if she and Chloe played together, as they sometimes did when Lissa’s friends weren’t around and the age gap managed to melt away.
She thinks briefly of the most recent waking-dream she had, standing in the shower a few days ago. The one in Paris during the war, when a different little girl – but still her sister – was killed, again because of a decision she’d made, because she wasn’t around to save her. She wonders again if that’s what this is about – her brain processing trauma in some weird way, years and years after the fact. Although that doesn’t explain the other images she gets, does it?
‘Look!’ Ash’s voice jolts her back to the present. ‘They have jalapeño hot chocolate there, Lissa.’ He sounds totally delighted, pointing at a stall selling hot drinks. ‘We have to try it.’ He marches on over, leaving her to follow him.
‘I’m definitely not trying that,’ Lissa says firmly. She looks at the menu. ‘I’ll have an ordinary hot chocolate.’
He shakes his head mockingly. ‘Way to be adventurous.’
‘Yes, because I show all signs of being the adventurous type.’
‘Ah, come on,’ he insists. ‘What do you have to lose? Worst case, it’s awful and we throw them away. But good to try something new, right?’
Lissa isn’t totally sure she agrees with that philosophy – new can often have catastrophic consequences, after all – but he seems so enamoured with the idea it’s hard to argue. ‘Fine,’ she says on a sigh. ‘But I’m buying them – my treat to say thank you, remember?’
He frowns as they edge closer to the front of the queue. ‘Thank you for what?’
‘For the other day,’ she says, really hoping that the heat doesn’t show in her cheeks.
‘Oh.’ His frown deepens. ‘Why do you need to say thank you?’
‘Because …’ But he’s at the front of the queue now, ordering the two spicy hot chocolates and not giving her the chance to finish. And she has to admit, as she sips it, that it’s really not as bad as she thought it would be.
They pass various stalls selling an array of gifts, which makes Lissa wonder whether she ought to start thinking of Christmas presents for this year. Maybe there’s something here she can buy for Nicole – she never knows what to get her.
Ash exclaims in delight at a stall selling hats and scarves, as if the concept of a hat is entirely new to him. ‘What do you think?’ he asks, jamming one on his head – a particularly garish one, with a rabbit riding a reindeer stitched into the front.
‘I don’t believe you’ll ever wear that,’ she says, trying not to laugh at how ridiculous he looks.
‘Sure I will. Goes with everything. And here …’ He does a quick sweep of the hats on offer, pulls out one that is clearly meant to be gold but is more of a sickening yellow colour, and which she is pretty sure is supposed to be in the shape of a star. Something that, by the look of things, is hard to pull off in a hat. He plonks it on her head, then grins. ‘Perfect. Definitely suits you.’
She rolls her eyes and pulls it part way off, but he just shoves it back down again and tucks a stray strand of her hair underneath it. The nape of her neck prickles with awareness.
He turns a beaming smile on the saleswoman. ‘I’ll take both,’ he announces.
‘Oh no,’ Lissa says quickly, ‘don’t get one for me. I—’
He holds up a finger as he slides his card out his pocket. ‘You wouldn’t buy it if I didn’t.’
And that logic is kind of hard to argue with.
‘So do you reckon there’s a roller coaster around here somewhere?’ he asks as they start walking again. And now it feels rude to take the yellow star hat off, even though it will definitely be clashing with her hair.
‘A roller coaster?’
‘Sure. Don’t some of these markets have like a mini fairground?’
‘Ah, if they do, I think it’s more like the odd Ferris wheel rather than a full-on roller coaster.’
‘Hmm.’ He looks unsure whether to believe her – like she could be lying about the lack of roller coaster.
‘Though I can tell you right now, I’m not getting on any sort of fairground ride. They’re not safe.’
‘They probably are.’
‘They’re definitely not.’
He glances down at her. ‘Would you have a panic attack again?’
